I Get Off
by TheChicaChic
Summary: The hour was bordering on ten. On a Friday night that meant either home to sleep or out for a crawl of whichever pubs were popular that month. Now the only light shining bright was Harry's office. That wasn't surprising. He was almost always the last to leave the Grid in the evenings. Just some random smut.


_**AN: This is...just basically smut that obviously would never happen. One of many such stories that I can only blame on a mixture of the numerous medicines I'm on for this evil flu/double ear infection and from HR always lives on saying she was all for M rated stuff. If smut isn't your thing, I suggest stopping here and reading some of my non-M stories. For all you other pervs (like myself) enjoy. It's a bit...different from my other M offerings but probably not the most surprising that'll be coming.**_

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Eyes closed, Ruth leaned back in her chair, a small groan of discomfort escaping as her back cracked.

The day had been long.

Almost too long.

Spent digging through mounds of personnel files looking for the woman turned traitor who had sold off call signs of old and current field agents. One woman in a long list of woman that Harry had slept with throughout his career.

And she had had the unfortunate luck of having to read them all.

God the man did not know the meaning of not mixing business with pleasure she'd learned from her troll through his past conquests.

For the first time she was glad she'd told him they couldn't see each other. It meant she hadn't been added to the twenty-three files she'd had to requisition from Archives. And no one ever would either. Not after all they'd shared was a chaste kiss after their one dinner date.

Of course, there was a small part of her that wished it had been more than a chaste kiss. Because all those woman had obviously experienced something that had them coming back for more. Something more that had been enough for a permission to socialize form to be turned in. Or a record of it recorded in both their personnel files.

But she'd never know.

Because she wasn't going to be number twenty-four.

Rolling her neck, she felt it crack as she lifted her head and looked around the Grid.

It was dark. All desk lamps; including hers; had been switched off some time before.

The hour was bordering on ten. On a Friday night that meant either home to sleep or out for a crawl of whichever pubs were popular that month. Even she had planned on leaving earlier but an e-mail from the night analyst in section C had grabbed her attention as she'd gone to power down her computer.

Now the only light shining bright was Harry's office.

That wasn't surprising. He was almost always the last to leave the Grid in the evenings.

But unlike other nights, she had the chance to observe him from behind the file cabinet blocking his view of her desk.

The blinds were pulled up, showing the world the exhausted man slumped back in his chair. With his hair mused, tie gone, and top two buttons undone, he looked relaxed. It was a sight she'd never seen before.

Leaning forward slightly, she rested her elbows on the desk and sighed. Like this, he looked younger. Less stressed.

It made her wish she didn't know his past.

Shaking her head, she rubbed her hand over her face. It was getting late. Almost time for the last bus of the evening.

Time for her to leave.

Arms dropping to the desk, she was about to push the chair back when something caught her attention. A slight movement from the office. Was that...no...it couldn't be. Could it?

Leaning forward again, she narrowed her eyes and watched. Waited.

There is was again.

The head of the man resting there pushing back into the headrest briefly. His tongue darting out between slightly opened lips before disappearing again. Teeth moving across the full lower lip before sliding inside again.

Eyes sliding down his throat, she just made the movement of his Adam's Apple from the twenty or so feet separating them before they continued on their trek. Taking in the skin of his chest exposed in a slight V where his shirt was undone. Over the material pulled taunt against his slight belly. And stopped on...

Swallowing deeply, she felt her stomach tighten.

And watched in a mixture of shock and rapture as the thumb of his right hand brushed across the head of his erect penis before disappearing under the desk.

Sitting there, she watched in open mouthed silence as he slowly moved his closed fist along the length of his shaft; wishing for the desk to up and disappear so she could see more than just the head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought about the height of the desk compared to the height of his chair. And felt her eyes widen as she realized how well endowed he had to be for the inch or so of the head to be showing so clearly.

Eyes darting to his face, she watched as his head tipped back and mouth fell open in what she could only imagine to be a moan.

_Of some woman from his past?_ flitted across her mind as she lowered her eyes again, watching his grip tighten and speed up some.

Unconsciously her hand traveled to the hem of her thigh-length skirt and slipped under, causing her to start as her finger tips brushed against the center of her knickers.

_This is wrong._ she thought but did nothing to move her hand. _This isn't you._

And yet...

Sliding her chair closer to the desk, she parted her legs and trembling slightly, slid her fingers under the edge of the lace. Gasping slightly at the wetness she found, she tentatively ran her middle finger through her folds.

Muscles clenching at the feeling, she leaned back in her chair, applying another finger and more pressure to her core as she watched the man behind the glass.

Breathing deeply, she stroked her fingers against her clitoris, eventually matching the speed in which Harry was rubbing himself.

Head pressed back against the top of her chair, she watched with heavy lidded eyes and tiny gasps as his hips raised from the chair, his closed fist yanking his penis more into view as he chased orgasm.

Tongue brushing the inside of her lower lip, she bit down to stifle a moan as she finally allowed two fingers to slide into the tightening muscles of her vagina. Sliding down in her chair, she spread her legs further and curled the fingers against the back of her pelvic bone.

Feeling warmness flood her body, she panted quietly and forced her eyes open to watch as his head fell back further, his front teeth biting into his lower lip as his body tensed and...

"Ruth? Are you alright?"

"Mmmm." she moaned, all movement stopping as the voice filtered through to her sex-addled brain. A voice close to her left ear.

A voice that shouldn't be.

Not when it belonged to the man behind the glass so close to orgasm.

"Ruth? What is it? What's wrong?"

Eyes snapping open, she blinked at the sudden light blinding her and looked around in confusion. Fingers gripping the arms of her chair, she finally turned her head to meet concerned hazel eyes. "Wha? Where?" Swallowing, she blinked again and looked around, her body tense.

"God you're sweating."

Feeling fingers brush against her clammy forehead, she jumped and turned her eyes back to his, cheeks blushing red as she realized it had all been a dream.

Just an erotic, detailed dream.

Damn her imagination and all those names in the files of his past Service conquests.

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_**AN: The idea came from the song which gave this little one shot it's title; **__**I Get Off**__** by Halestorm. Hopefully you'll leave a review and let me know what you think. =0) J xx**_

_**As a side note - I'm in the processing of making a Facebook community for HR. If you're interested in checking it out, let me know.**_


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